


there you are

by weddingbells



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Feelings, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Zayn One Direction, Sex, Top Zayn Malik, icarus falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weddingbells/pseuds/weddingbells
Summary: It’s been years, that is true. And changes in wardrobes, hair, probably some height too if posture got something to do with it but Zayn is still certain he would recognise those green eyes everywhere.Harry Styles is standing outside of his flat.





	there you are

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written Zarry in so long (or written at all) but I got inspired so here have 4k, pretty much pwp, about the fact that zayn's whole new album is about harry styles.

Zayn has been surprised many times in his life. The first time he remembers was 5 and got a gift he never thought he would get. Then growing up there were many more of those. People he asked out that he never thought would say yes but they did, getting a music career, making a whole brand of his name only. There has been surprises, Zayn knows this. He loves surprises.

He has never been surprised like he is now though.

The knock on his door is soft, and what strikes him is the use of knocking and not doorbell, and the fact that it sounds like the person knocking isn’t sure if they should be doing just this.

When Zayn peeps through the hole in the door to see who it is, he understands why.

It’s been years, that is true. And changes in wardrobes, hair, probably some height too if posture got something to do with it but Zayn is still certain he would recognise those green eyes everywhere.

Harry Styles is standing outside of his flat.

Zayn hesitates, stopping with his hand halfway to the door handle about to open it. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should just pretend he isn’t here, that he is busy. He could be, after all. Got an album coming out, a whole bunch of celebrations could be happening. Sure, he is a bit over that whole scene and his new scene is pretty much staying in on his own with a drink and a smoke, but Harry doesn’t know that. Does he?

Maybe not, because Zayn can see how Harry kind of slumps, like a disappointed slump of shoulders and he makes a move as if to turn away and Zayn realises that he really doesn’t want Harry to go without actually telling him why he is here so, Zayn opens the door.

Fear is the only way he can describe the look on Harry’s face when the door opens and Harry realises that Zayn actually was home.

For a moment they just stare, and Zayn wonders if he should be the first to speak but he honestly doesn’t remember how to speak around Harry. And he doesn’t know what to say at all.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Harry finally says, and he pushes past Zayn into the flat, taking his shoes and jacket off and draping it over a chair, starting to wander nervously back and forth.

Zayn just stares, kind of wanting to make a comment about how for someone who shouldn’t be here, he is making himself feel straight at home, but he doesn’t. He keeps staring, following Harry that is wandering back and forth as if his life depends on it.

“I’m an idiot, I really shouldn’t be here. I mean what was I thinking? Just showing up like this. It’s crazy! I’m crazy, god, I really shouldn’t be here.”

Zayn can tell he is rambling, the words starting to come really fast from someone that usually speaks so slow. His breathing is faster too and when the rambling continues, Zayn reaches out and puts his hand on Harry’s arm.

“Harry.”

Harry stops, almost mid step and stumbles, and his eyes shot up to meet Zayn’s, and Zayn feels as if his hand is on fire for being on Harry’s arm like this. He should move it, but he can’t.

It’s been three years, more, since he last was even near him. Way longer than that since they touched.

“I’m.. god, I shouldn’t be here I’m sorry, I…”

“Harry, just… calm down,” Zayn feels like he might need a drink or more because just this whole thing is making his head spin. It doesn’t help that Harry Styles is freaking out in his hallway. “Why… why did you come?”

Harry looks at him, and it’s as if they both hold their breaths. Then Harry sighs and puts his hands over his face.

“Because I’m jealous.”

Zayn blinks, because he had been making up a few scenarios, a bit of a guess on what Harry would say the reason was and that really wasn’t on the list. It was so far off the list he couldn’t even imagine it. He blinks.

“I’m sorry what?”

Harry sighs.

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“But I…” Zayn is baffled, absolutely baffled. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

”I just need to know,” Harry looks at Zayn and takes a deep breath. “I need to know and you need to tell me so that I can… god, so I can get on with my life.”

“I thought you did,” Zayn says, and it comes off a bit harsh maybe and he didn’t intend it to. Harry backs away a bit as if he was punched, and then he shakes his head like he knows he deserved to hear it.

“I know, I know I said… and I know we…”

“Why are you here?” Zayn asks, and he hopes his voice isn’t trembling but it is really starting to do things to him that Harry is here.

Harry that he hasn’t spoken to in years. That won’t return his calls or messages. That has been trashing him, and that he has been trashing back so many times.

The Harry that was his boyfriend and then was his nothing.

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

Just that comment causes Zayn to let out a chuckle because it seems so childish so stupid, but Harry looks at him seriously and Zayn could say he very much is going to laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, I… fine, I won’t laugh.”

“Niall’s album came out and everyone… everyone started saying these… things” Harry’s voice sounds pained, as if he really doesn’t want to say this. “Shouldn’t bother me, should it? That people thought Niall would be writing songs about you.”

“Niall isn’t…” Zayn tries. He can’t cut in though.

“Just… just listen okay, I just saw all these… theories, I mean and I just thought that… huh maybe that could be it, maybe it could be about you. Wouldn’t blame him for being in love with you. Just that it drove me crazy.”

“I…”

“And then your songs came out. The new ones, I mean. And suddenly people… people started saying so many things. That you had… written them about people… Like, there were articles and… fans and they said things and… and that… that your songs were about Niall, in response to his. Or about Liam. Or Louis, when I…” Harry has tears in his eyes. “When I was fairly sure that even if we messed things up, those songs were about me, right? Because my songs were all about you.”

“Harry…” Zayn tries to interrupt him but it’s as if that won’t happen now, really won’t because it’s like Harry has been carrying something inside for so long, closing a door to something that is now open, and it’s pouring out of him.

“And I just got so… so fucking angry, and I couldn’t understand why because I’m over you,” Harry glances over at Zayn, their eyes meet. “God, so over you. I’m so fucking over you I don’t even understand I was under you to begin with. I don’t care if your songs are about every single one in the band except for me and if you fuck them all every chance you get. I don’t care. I don’t, because I’m fucking over you, right?”

It hurts, and Zayn feels sick to his stomach. He should know it, but it still hurts. Harry being over him hurts.

“Oh, I…”

“Except I’m not, right?” Harry continues, and then he is laughing, almost hysterically laughing. “Clearly I’m not over you because I’m here obsessing over… over fan theories that’s just for fun because just the idea of you being with someone else but me or loving someone else the way you’re supposed to love me, turns me into a jealous freak.”

It’s a lot of information to get at once and Zayn feels like an idiot because he doesn’t react, he can’t react and he is so angry at himself because he has been imagining this in his mind all since they ended things. Harry showing up and begging to get taken back in. To be in love again.

Now he can’t say a word. He doesn’t know what he should say.

“I need a drink,” Harry finally says and well, something like that Zayn can deal with better than actually saying something about that. “Or do you have any weed? Yours was the best.”

Zayn arches an eyebrow.

“Thought you’d quit.”

Harry shrugs.

“Only said that to piss you off. You got any?”

 

Of course he does, because when doesn’t he, and Zayn rolls two joints, handing Harry one and giving himself the other and then they curl up outside under blankets, it’s dark and the stars are out and Zayn feels relaxed when Harry finally seems to stop breathing so fast. Harry sighs, taking a few drags and blowing smoke out before saying much, just staring up into the sky.

“I feel like I’ve been here,” he says finally. “Which is stupid, because I haven’t. It’s a new place, right? You didn’t have this place back then.”

Zayn nods and brushes hair out of his face.

“Yeah but I mean, we used to sit outside and smoke back then so you know, maybe it feels the same.”

“Maybe…” Harry says slowly. “That could be it.”

“It could be,” Zayn blows smoke rings just to show off. The corner of Harry’s mouth curls up. Zayn really, really, really wants to kiss him.

“I know this is like… not okay,” Harry mumbles, the joint hanging from the corner of his mouth as he now and then looks over to Zayn. “You can’t go years not talking and doing what we did to each other, hurting each other and only expect it to go back to what it was over night. I didn’t say all that for you to, forgive me or something.”

“Yeah.”

“Just needed it off my chest. God, turning into such a… I don’t even know. Is there a name for someone than me other than pathetic?” Harry asks, and then gives Zayn a look. “Don’t answer it.”

“Fine,” Zayn hums. He is more focused on drowning in Harry’s scent anyway. It really hasn’t changed. No matter how much time has passed.

“So, I know I can’t think that this changes everything. Not fast. It can’t,” Harry speaks slowly.

Zayn takes a drag, looking over at Harry. He wants to poke his dimples that has appeared now as Harry is sheepishly looking at him. He is so happy it isn’t completely dark so that he can see him.

“Yeah?”

“Gotta give it time, let it heal, all that. Not move fast, waiting…” Harry’s voice is so slow now and Zayn isn’t sure if he is making sense, but he might be. Probably is. People often talk about how important it is to take things slow. Zayn just never did.

“No fast moving,” he echoes, the joint dropping from his hand to the ash tray. “Oops.”

“Wish it wasn’t like that for us though,” Harry says after a while. He takes another drag, but there’s not much left and he pouts at that which, is something Zayn really missed. Really missed. Oh god, how he missed it. “Want to skip it all. Just delete the years, what we said, don’t give a fuck. Just want to go back. Missed you, Z.”

For some reason it makes Zayn blush and he looks down, doesn’t say anything back. Harry sighs.

“I know we can’t. I know it… it doesn’t work like that,” a deep sigh follows and Harry closes his eyes. “We should give it time. Let the friendship come back. Time and… you know… time.”

“Time,” Zayn repeats. He wants to sit on Harry’s face.

Harry opens one eye, looking at Zayn and licks his lips.

“So… did time pass now?” he asks and Zayn isn’t sure if what he is doing is extremely stupid but well, he was never known for making good decisions anyway so why start now. He lunges forward, almost tackling Harry to the ground but Harry catches him, just like he used to do and just like Zayn used to catch him.

Their noses bump together, softly, and Zayn looks into Harry’s eyes before Harry tilts his head up, eagerly. Zayn places a soft kiss to his jaw, then when Harry doesn’t move or doesn’t protest it, he places kisses along his whole jawline, up his ear, then back again before he captures Harry’s lips with his own.

It feels like coming home, kissing Harry again.

Zayn closes his eyes and melts, absolutely melts as Harry’s open arms now wraps around him, pulling him close in to kiss him back, careful at first as if he worries Zayn will break and then deeper as their confidence grows back and it’s like finding the way you always knew how to take.

“I missed you too,” Zayn whispers and maybe some other time, or with some other person, he would know that forgiving someone in one night for more than three years of hell is, well, stupid, but Zayn can live with being stupid when it comes to Harry. “I missed you so much. And it’s all about you. All the songs, all the love poems, all of it, it’s all about you.”

“God,” Harry whimpers and Zayn is sure he can see tears in his eyes. “God, I fucking love you, Zee.”

Zayn’s heart swells, and he kisses Harry again, thinking that if the whole bloody sky filled with stars was a person, it would be Harry Styles.

“I love you too,” Zayn murmurs in return and their hands move over each other’s bodies, as if it’s new territory, yet so familiar.

Zayn’s hands move over Harry’s skin, down to the bottom of his shirt, fingers slightly pushing it up curiously, searching.

“Did you get any new ones?” he whispers, fingers tracing ink that was there before he left him, ink his fingers still know. He leans in, kisses the laurels, feeling how Harry sucks his stomach in as his breath hitches.

“Maybe,” Harry’s voice is low, and Zayn doesn’t need to look up to know that his eyes are dark, filled with lust, with need. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“Nope,” Zayn murmurs, pushing his shirt up. “Gonna find them all by myself.”

Harry’s hand comes down to help him, lifting himself up to get the shirt off, and Zayn moves his hand all over his body. He must have been working out, maybe more than before, and Zayn takes his hands in his, kissing the fingers.

“They feel rougher,” he comments, sucking one into his mouth as he looks into Harry’s eyes. Harry groans until he lets the finger go. “All the guitar playing, hm?”

“Wanted to play more of my own music,” Harry speaks, his voice more and more shaky now and trembling with need, and Zayn loves it. Missed this. Wants to take his time and take Harry apart like old times.

It’s a bit cold for that out here on the balcony but it also doesn’t matter, because he is pretty sure things will soon heat up even more. His skin already feels on fire when Harry grabs hold of Zayn’s own shirt, pulling at it to show he want it off.

“Did you get any new ones I haven’t seen?” Harry asks, and Zayn only smirks.

“How about we both try to find out what’s new, hm?”

Harry meets that grin, and then he moves up, pushing Zayn down on the balcony and climbs on top of him. His hair isn’t long like it was last time they did this, but Zayn can see it’s still longer than he knows it was a year ago and he reaches up, tugging at a lost baby curl.

“Yes, yes we could do that. But do you know what I really missed?”

“My cock?” Zayn suggests, and Harry gasps, covering Zayn’s mouth.

“Naughty language, Malik.”

“Did you go pure these years away from me?” Zayn arches an eyebrow and Harry grunts, grabbing Zayn’s hand to suck his fingers into his mouth, getting them wet.

“No, shut up and put those fingers to use instead.”

It’s so familiar, so very familiar and Zayn can’t stop grinning.

“Take your jeans off.”

Apparently, it’s still difficult to get undressed completely when Harry doesn’t want to let Zayn go, and Zayn feels it too. It takes too long, way too long but when their jeans finally lay discarded on top of their shirts and Zayn can see the glory that his Harry’s cock, red and swollen and hard for him, in front of his face so close. It causes him to grin again.

“Still hating underwear?” he asks, earning him a swat from Harry’s hand and he laughs, wiggling out of his own boxers so that they are both naked. It’s cold for a second before Harry moves, grabbing both their cocks in one hand and starts to stroke them.

Zayn lets out a bit too loud moan.

“Hush, be quiet, start using those fingers,” Harry hums, grabbing Zayn’s right hand with his only free hand, moving it to his arse. “I haven’t had any for a long time so you need to be thorough.”

It makes Zayn weak, hearing that.

“Been a while?” asks, as he finds Harry’s entrance, the pad of his thumb teasing the hole and Harry gaps, before nodding.

“Mhm… mm… yes.”

“Me too,” Zayn whispers, and the desperate whine coming from Harry when Zayn slides the first finger in is enough to have Zayn leaking pre-cum in Harry’s hand.

“Shit,” Harry hisses and Zayn could agree because he is so tight yet it’s like he sucks his finger in, and Zayn really needs to stop himself from letting a second one in right away, and a third one, and then just beg Harry to sit on his cock and ride him until he sees stars.

He goes slow because when it comes to letting ex boyfriends back in and hooking up he might be fast but with this, this he can be slow with. He wiggles his finger, taking his time until Harry whimpers so desperately that Zayn can’t help himself.

He adds a second finger and then a third, by which point Harry is more of a mess than before and only babbling in a begging way that Zayn can’t understand, or well he does understand because he knows Harry needs it and god, he needs it so. He is so hard it hurts, so desperate that his body feels like it’s on fire.

“Condoms are inside, we need to move,” Zayn whispers and Harry looks ready to cry but he moves, getting up so that Zayn can stand up, and Zayn rushes as quick as he can, getting to the bathroom box where he knows he always has a stash, hoping they aren’t old because he wasn’t lying – it has been too long.

When he comes back, Harry is still out on the balcony and he’s got two fingers buried in himself so deep Zayn wonders how he can reach, and it’s more beautiful than all the art Zayn has ever seen in his life.

“Having fun without me?” he asks, sitting down on his knees and allowing Harry to take the condom from it.

Harry doesn’t say anything, just look at Zayn with pupils so dark from lust, unwrapping the condom and rolling it onto Zayn’s aching length so carefully, and in a way that could make Zayn come right there. Just having Harry’s hands on himself again is enough. He never wants to have any other man hands on him again, never wants to know that Harry’s hands touch anyone but Zayn.

“You wanna ride me?” Zayn asks hoarsely, to which Harry nods and slowly pushing Zayn down on the cold floor once more, straddling his hips the way he always did and Zayn could never get tired of this, and he could cry because he was so sure he would never live to experience something like this again but here he is and Harry is here.

Harry takes it slow, probably revenge for Zayn’s slow fingering earlier, sinking down on Zayn’s cock inch by inch, letting out soft moans and wiggling a bit until he is fully seated.

Zayn forces himself to close his eyes, not watch because he will not ruin this with just seconds of it, won’t come from just having Harry seated on him looking like that.

He opens his eyes when Harry starts moving though, riding him like he always did, and Zayn’s hands move to Harry’s hips, holding onto them but letting him set the pace, letting Harry decide what to do. And god, Harry knows what to do. He still remembers everything Zayn likes, and the way his hips circles, rolls, the bounces as his arse clench around Zayn’s aching, leaking cock is just enough to have Zayn feel like he hit cloud 9.

It’s way better than anything else. Anything.

“You look so gorgeous,” Zayn tells him, and Harry purrs, clearly still into the praise. “Take it so well. You’re gonna have me cum too soon babe, way too soon.”

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, and he doesn’t stop, he moves faster. “But we can go again. I can always go again with you. I can go all night as long as it’s with you.”

If Zayn wasn’t so turned on, so close to orgasm, he’d cry with how sweet that was but now he is just trying to not pass out from pleasure, especially when Harry’s hands moves to his nipples, pinching them, playing with the piercing.

“Haz!” Zayn cries out, and he arches his back, hips thrusting upwards and hitting just the right spot apparently because Harry cries out too, their hands finding each other and fingers intertwining.

When his orgasm washes over him like a released river, Zayn isn’t sure if he came first or if Harry did.

But he sees stars, and everything is just very, very amazing.

 

 

 

Zayn is so happy he wakes up in a bed when he opens his eyes and not the cold balcony. He looks around and can’t see Harry and for a moment he worries that maybe it was a dream, a very real dream until the door opens to the bedroom and Harry comes in, naked and holding two cups of coffee.

“Hey, didn’t want to wake you, remember you like to sleep in,” Harry says softly and sits down, putting the cups on the bedside table so that he can move to kiss Zayn as if it really is all they have been doing for the last years. Zayn closes his eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Thought you were a dream,” he mutters against Harry’s lips, causing him to trouble.

“Mmm, well I am a bit of a dream, aren’t I?” he asks with wiggling eyebrows and Zayn grunts and throws the duvet over him to cover him, throwing Harry into a fit of giggles as he moves to lay on the side of Zayn.

Zayn lets him be like that for a while until he pulls the duvet down, Harry’s face, mess of a hair and dimple and grin bigger than his face, being revealed.

“Oh hello,” Zayn says smiling as he leans in. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Harry replies pulling Zayn in. “Can I stay?”

Zayn responds with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed, @hiatusniall at tumblr and @rainbowpinharry at twitter if you wanna chat about zarry x


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